


To New Beginnings

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Non Consensual, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Sam didn't set out to be like this.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	To New Beginnings

Sam didn’t set out to be like this. He didn’t wake up one morning and think, _today, I’m going to make a list of things I want,_ and have his brother highlighted as the number one item.

He never meant to be _wrong_ this way.

But it seems he doesn’t get a choice in the matter, because sometime in the past two years, Dean has become the only thing he _does_ want. He craves his brother’s flesh in ways that scare him, he wants to _mark_ him, to _own_ him, and he can’t stop no matter how hard he tries. He wonders, frequently and with increasing levels of trepidation, if Castiel knows about his…problem, if that’s why the angel has taken to being at Dean’s side almost incessantly lately.

He doesn’t know if it makes him thankful for the angel, or if it makes him want to _kill_ the angel. That scares him as well.

It’s New Years Eve when he walks into the motel room they’re staying at this hunt, loaded down with Chinese food and pie, and stops short. Dean is standing _right there_ , his eyes glazed with something Sam doesn’t recognize.

He is staring right at Sam.

The younger Winchester swallows hard, hands reflexively clenching around the bags of food he carries. “Uh…Dean? What…?”

Dean does not reply, except to step forward as though in a daze, one hand rising and pressing against Sam’s chest. Green eyes rise and catch his own hazel ones, and Sam _can’t breathe_. He doesn’t notice the food as it falls to the ground, doesn’t even feel his hands lift and grip Dean’s hips hard enough to bruise.

Everything that happens after that one long moment seems as though it happens in a dream. There is no need to question, no need to break this strange spell that has been woven around them. Clothing is discarded with haste, and Sam has Dean backed up against the bed before he registers moving at all.

When he kisses him, Dean tastes of something deep and forbidden and _perfect_ , and he groans into his mouth, eyes closed against the rush of need that courses through him. Dean doesn't make a sound, only pushes closer, hand dropping to press against Sam’s rapidly hardening length.

Sam pulls away on a gasp, letting his head fall to Dean’s shoulder as the older hunter’s hand closes around him and strokes. “Dean,” he breathes. “Dean, wanna be in you. Now. _Please_.”

The only response Dean gives is to lift Sam’s face and nip teasingly at his bottom lip before crawling backward onto the bed behind them, legs spread invitingly, eyes dark as they stare up at Sam.

Sam breathes out slowly, drinking in this sight he has craved for so long, this picture that is _so much better_ than he ever could have imagined, and then he makes his way up Dean’s body, kissing as he goes.

He does not stop for long enough to worry about his preparedness for this situation, is afraid that if he pauses even for a moment, Dean will disappear and he will lose his only chance. He presses harsh, biting kisses to Dean’s mouth and reaches down to insert a spit-slicked finger into him. Dean arches up soundlessly, eyes wide as Sam moves down to mouth at his neck, adding a second finger simultaneously.

When Sam finally, _finally_ , slips inside his brother, it's like coming home. Dean moves into him, clenches around him so sweetly, mouth open on a silent cry as Sam thrusts and moans and _loves_. It takes only moments before he is spiraling, coming harder and faster and _better_ than he ever has before. Dean follows swiftly after, and only now is Sam starting to find his silence disconcerting, but he presses kisses to his shoulder, his neck, his mouth, as he pulls out and curls around him on the bed.

As he drifts off to sleep, he's a little surprised to feel Dean trembling beneath him. But his dreams pull at him, and he is powerless to fight them off.

~

 

 _There is only darkness in this dream, darkness that penetrates and fills every part of him, but doesn’t feel uncomfortable like he thinks it maybe should. He looks around, but can’t make out anything until a voice whispers in his ear, “Sam.”_

 _He spins, and there is Lucifer, his vessel cracked and peeling and fading fast, but still smiling, cool as can be. “What do you want?” he growls, fists clenched._

 _“I just wondered if you enjoyed my gift,” the devil replies, smirking, and Sam freezes._

 _“Gift?”_ No. Please, God, no, _he thinks desperately._

 _Lucifer’s smile widens. “Well, yes! I knew what it was you wanted most, of course. And it’s so hard to shop for people these days. All it took was a bit of ‘angel mojo’ as Dean so eloquently puts it, and voila! Instant incest for the more finicky giftee. I do hope you enjoyed it…he’s yours for as long as you like.”_

 _Sam’s head spins, nausea causing his stomach to clench and roll._ What have I done?

 _“Happy New Year, Sam,” Lucifer says with another twist of his lips. “I have a good feeling about the upcoming year. Be seeing you!”_

~

 

He jolts awake. The side of the bed where Dean was has gone cold. He stands shakily to cross to the window. The Impala is gone, and, glancing around, so are all of Dean’s bags.

Vomit clogs his throat and tears burn his eyes. His vision whites out briefly, and then goes black, and for a long time, he knows no more.

-


End file.
